Thinner Than Water
by EilonwyCousland QueenofTragedy
Summary: "Then the Maker said: To you, my second-born, I grant this gift: in your heart shall burn an unquenchable flame all-consuming, and never satisfied." A short story about the Hawke siblings in their youth. The Way of Thedas Universe. Pre-blight.
1. Chapter 1

Challenge: "Write a short - anything up to 10k words, no lower limit - on one of your Hawkes or Wardens (or even Inquisitors) - but they will be aged between 4 and 14 - they are a CHILD. Something that's stayed with them, and affects their life/decision making even as an adult."

And so this was born. Follows small snippet of the Hawke family as featured in my Way of Thedas verse. So, after _My Sister's Shadow_, but before _Shipwrecked _and _The Way It Now Is_. Will only be a short two, maybe three, chapters long. Enjoy and thanks for reading/reviewing! ^-^

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><p><span>One<span>

Maurevar brushed her shoulder length hair into a ponytail. Wavy strands fell around her face and she sighed. Her hair never did like to do what it was told.

"Sister!" Bethany called from their room.

Mar grinned. "I'm in the washroom!" she called out.

The 'washroom', as the Hawke family called it, was a tiny lean-to attached to the back of their home. It held a basin for washing, both their clothes as well as their bodies, and a the smallest hand mirror that their da had fashioned to the wall.

Bethany pulled back the curtain, her brown eyes wide and expressive. "Breakfast is ready," she said, a smile spread wide on her face.

Mar ruffled her sister's curly brown hair with a grin. Bethany grabbed Mar's hand and they walked to the room that served as both their kitchen and their family room.

A small wooden table sat under the room's one window. Sunlight streamed in through the checkered curtain, casting a shadow on the ground. A bouquet of wildflowers sat in the center of the table, and a plate of biscuits, bacon, and eggs sent a homey aroma throughout the place.

Maurevar yawned noisily and scratched the side of her nose. "Where's our folks? And Carver?" she asked, curious where the rest of the family was.

"Da went to town to buy supplies for the winter. Says it will be a long and cold one. Ma went with," Bethany answered, plating out the food onto three plates.

She frowned as she put a plate in front of Carver's spot. "Carver… went for a walk," she finished.

Mar rolled her eyes. "What is he whiny about this time?" she asked, plopping down in her usual spot, closest to the window.

Bethany smacked her in the head with the back of the wooden spoon. "He's angry because she broke his practice sword. Again."

"Ow! And don't chastise me, I'm older," she replied, rubbing the back of her head.

This time it was Bethany who rolled her eyes. "Oh don't play like it hurt," she said, and took her place at the table.

As she bit into her biscuit, she stared out the window with a frown on her face. She chewed slowly, worried about her twin brother. Their father often told them it was too dangerous for them to wander off alone, but Carver insisted it was just because she was a mage.

Bethany glanced down at her hands. They were small, even for an twelve-year-old, but they hummed with magic. And she had begun to hear demons in her sleep. Whispering. Promising power, immortality, the ability to control the Fade itself. It terrified her.

And even though her parents had sacrificed everything to keep her; even though she wasn't the only mage, she feared if her father knew what she heard he'd leave her at a circle. She didn't want to leave her family.

She knew Carver hated her magic. Even though he said he didn't, she knew he did. She could feel how angry he was. Her father said it was because she was born to be a Healer. That's why she felt the emotions of everyone they met.

But she was learning to block it out. To only feel what she wanted, and when. Her father was as good a teacher as any in the circle, she was certain.

Suddenly the door slammed open and Carver stormed in, boots clomping on the their wooden floor.

"Boots off, brother dear," Bethany said, smiling. "Welcome home!"

Carver scowled but obliged. Then he hung up his cloak before sitting at the table. He grabbed his fork and shoveled eggs into his face quickly.

Mar grinned mischievously. "'Ello, Carver," she said.

Carver frowned and refused to look at his elder sister. He stared at his plate, trying hard to ignore her. Harder still, was controlling the anger. It was Mar who made him so pissed off, but he knew Beth blamed herself. It was because of her damned magic that she even felt it in the first place.

That's what he really hated. That his sister had to suffer the curse of magic.

Mar put on a fake pout and poked Carver in the arm. "Aw, are you ignoring me, little brother?"

Carver clenched his fist around the fork but continue to ignore her. He noticed Bethany squirming uncomfortably next to him and sighed. Why did Mar always try to pick a fight, when she knew it upset Beth this way?

"What do you want, Mar?" he asked, teeth clenched.

Mar grabbed a piece of bacon off of his plate and smiled. "Here. I'll make you a peace offering. I'll fetch you a new sword today, Andraste's honour," she said as she took a bite.

Carver took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. "Fine," he said shortly.

Mar leapt from her seat and swiped his biscuit. "Good! I'll return shortly, then, my siblings. Behave whilst your big sister is gone on this, her gallant quest," she said, skipping out the door.

Bethany shook her head while Carver stared after her, mouth agape. "She… it was all just an excuse to leave the house. She broke it on _purpose_, damn her!" he cried.

"Carver! Watch your tongue," Bethany chastised, but it was only half-heartedly.

.

.

Maurever raced towards the Brecilian Forest, not even sparing a glance back towards their tiny little hut. She dashed through the wildflowers, her feet light and quick. The early morning dew made the grass slick, and it clung to her socks.

She reached the line of trees and stopped. Shadows loomed and a shiver ran down her spin. She carefully walked towards an old oak and hid behind it, using the shadows to conceal her form.

She called up a slight bit of mana, and increased the shadows around her, blending in further. She breathed softly, not making a sound. Soon, a boy entered the forest.

His hair was a deep, dark red and long. It was held back in a low ponytail and his blue eyes glance nervously around the forest. He crept around noisily and called out her name.

She grinned and snuck up behind him,. "Here I am," she said, her voice ringing out.

He turned around sharply, eyes wide. "Maker's ass, you startled me, Mar," he said, and then grinned.

She smiled back and moved closer. He encircled his arms around her waist and she leaned up and kissed his chin.

He laughed. "Why did you wish to meet here, of all places? Would not somewhere in the village be in better keeping with propriety?" He glanced around at the trees. "This seems so indecorous," he said with a shake of his head.

Mar frowned. "You're always so formal. Maybe I want to be in... indecorous," she replied defiantly, only tripping over the unfamiliar word briefly. "Love should be fun, not conforming, Ruber."

Ruber shook his head. "I already risk my father's wrath by laying with a peasant. Must you ask me to risk it further by meeting here?" he questioned.

She grinned and leaned up, touching her lips to his. He sighed and kissed her back, parting her lips slightly. His hand snaked across her stomach and her heart fluttered.

She pulled back and leaned her head against his chest. His heart was pounding wildly and she rubbed her nose along the edges of the v in his shirt, lightly touching his skin with hers. He shivered, and she smiled.

"I wish I could stay longer," she murmured wistfully. "My younger siblings are alone."

He pulled back and looked at her quizzically. "You just left them there?" he asked.

She shrugged and darted in for another kiss, this time her lips brushing against the patchy stubble on his cheek. She turned and started back towards home. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ruber!" she called out over her shoulder, her voice carefully controlled to not betray her fast-beating heart.

"Yes. Do be careful, Maurevar!" he returned, making her frown slightly.

She hated being called Maurevar.

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><p>Maurevar is 14, Ruber is 16. Carver and Beth are 12.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Two

A cold breeze blew through Bethany's hair, causing the young girl to shiver and pull her hood more tightly around her head. She bent over and plucked the carrots from the ground and placed them gently in her wicker basket.

"Do you need any help?" her father called from nearby. He was chopping firewood for the winter and sweat dripped from his brow.

She shook her head. "No, Da, I can handle picking vegetables," she replied with a sigh.

Malcolm chuckled and turned back to the wood. "Just be careful, my little tadpole," he cautioned as he swung his axe.

"Y_es_, Da," Bethany replied.

She hummed to herself as she walked the rows of their small garden; picking carrots, potatoes, and beets. She glanced over at the small pumpkin patch she had made and made a face at how large the gourds had grown. She'd never be able to lift them on her own.

She picked the last of the beets and turned towards the house. "Carver! Carver, I need your help!" she called. She didn't want to bother her father when he was already busy. Besides, it would give Carver something to do with himself.

Carver came from the back of the house, a long stick resting on his shoulder. "What's up, Beth?" he asked.

She pointed to the pumpkins. "Carry those to the cellar, will you, brother?"

Carver sighed and threw the stick on the ground. Their small, wiry haired dog barked and chased after it, much to his sister's amusement. He went over and grabbed one of the large pumpkins and slowly began carrying it down into the tiny cellar where there mother was, caning the last of the fall's harvest.

He set the gourd down and lifted the large wooden doors he and his father had built this past summer. They hadn't been there long, but the place already felt like home to Carver. He just prayed they didn't have to move, again.

He stepped onto the narrow stairway and carefully walked down. "Ma?" he called out.

"I'm in here, Carver, don't shout so," she replied.

Carver rolled his eyes. "How else are you supposed to hear me?" he mumbled.

The dim candlelight cast a soft glow over the room. Chunks of meat hung from hooks in the ceiling and jars covered the built in shelves. His mother stood at the tiny table in the center with Maurevar, spooning sweet candied beets into glass jars.

"Where'do you want this?" he said between breaths. The pumpkin was heavy and it was hard to climb down the stairs and keep his balance.

Using the back of her hand, his mother brushed a loose strand of her blonde-gray hair out of her eyes. She bit her lip and looked around. "Ah, just place it over there in the corner, dear," she said, pointing to the far left corner.

Carver nodded and slowly moved over to the spot. Behind him, he heard footsteps quickly walking towards the stairs.

"I'll be back in a moment," Maurevar called.

Carver rolled his eyes and placed the pumpkin on the ground.

"Alright, darling," Leandra replied.

Carver hurried back up the stairs, waving at his mother as he went. When he got back to the surface he saw Maurevar holding the remaining three pumpkins up by magic. Bethany was standing there, arms crossed and a frown on her face.

"This is why it's better to have magic," Mar said and winked at Bethany.

Carver scowled and stomped over. "What if someone sees you?"

Mar rolled her eyes. "Don't be jealous, Carver. I'm sure you would have gotten it done… eventually," she drawled.

"That's not the point! You put us all in danger when you're reckless!" Carver hissed.

The pumpkins fell to the ground, one cracking open slightly. "Fine. Enjoy doing it the hard way, little brother," she replied and shrugged.

She started for the village and Malcolm frowned after his daughter. He didn't approve of her frivolous use of magic, but he didn't want to limit her potential, either. "Maurevar… Where are you going?"

She waved over her shoulder. "Just to the Chantry, Da. I want to pray," she replied.

Malcolm frowned and shook his head. "Maurevar…"

"I'll be fine, Da, and back before supper!" she called and took off running.

Malcolm sighed. His eldest child was always the most willful of his children. She reminded him of himself, when he was her age, actually. He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. Hopefully she would get in less trouble than he did, he thought with a chuckle.

Carver stared after his sister, his mouth twisted in disgust. "I bet she's going to meet that silly noble," he said.

Bethany placed a hand on his shoulder. "She'll be fine, Carver. Come on, let's finish the chores," she said softly.

He grunted and went to grab another pumpkin. "It's not her I'm worried about," he muttered.

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.

Mar tip-toed alongside the Chantry, bending low beneath the window sills. Coloured glass caught the sunlight and glowed beautiful pictures of Andraste's sacrifice. It was the village's pride and joy, to have a fine piece of glass, all the way from Serault.

Maurevar thought it pretty but little else. She never felt particularly loyal or disloyal to the Chantry. It was just, the Maker had abandon them their fate, so why should she bow and scrape and plead for acceptance from a god who didn't even see her people's plight?

She continued along the wall, careful to conceal her mana, lest a Templar be near and feel her presence. Her father had taught her how to hide and well.

She slipt from shadow to shadow, sneaking up behind Ruber Elwes, youngest son of a minor noble house, and placed her hands over his eyes. "Surprise! Guess who?" she whispered in his ear.

She could feel his frown beneath her hands and kissed the back of his neck. "I'll give you a hint," she murmured.

He grabbed her hands and roughly pulled away. "We are in the Chantry gardens, Maurevar!" he chastised.

She pouted and folded her arms over her breasts. "I hate it when you call me that," she replied, ignoring his complaint, and sticking her chin out defiantly. She didn't care about propriety or whatever. Love shouldn't be kept secret.

Ruber rolled his eyes and leaned forward, placing the obliging kiss on her cheek. The gardens were empty, so at least he could still retain some amount of dignity. "I am most sorry, Mar," he said.

Mar kicked her toe in the dirt. "I just wanted to see you," she muttered, looking down at her feet.

He sighed and pulled her in for a light embrace. He wrapped one arm around her and used the other one to pat her head. "I know, and I am glad to see you," he assured her. "It is just… I am to be dedicated to the Chantry, soon, and they expect certain… vows, Mar," he explained.

She scrunched up her brow in confusion and pulled away. "Are you- Are you breaking up with me?" she asked, her voice raising.

Ruber waved his hands in a hushing motion. "Maurev- Mar, we are on Chantry grounds, please keep your voice level." He paused and took a deep breath before cupping her cheek. "I am not breaking up with you," he assured.

Mar smiled and grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging on it playfully. "Good. Then what's all this nonsense about vows, silly?"

Ruber looked at her, her bright green eyes shining in the mid-afternoon sun, tan cheeks turned pink from the chill in the air. He brushed a piece of hair from her face. "I will become a Brother, Mar. That requires dedication, both to the Maker and Andraste."

Mar blinked at him. "What does that have to do with sex?" she asked.

Ruber covered her mouth, eyes wide. "Are you insane? If the Revered Mother knew that I have… my family would be shamed," he whispered, fear and awe in his voice, as if he was amazed at the power the Chantry held.

She shoved his hand off her mouth and her lip curled in disgust. "You can't be bloody serious?" she asked incredulously.

Ruber looked at her strangely. "Of course I am serious. Maurevar, are you not an Andrastian?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

"I guess," she answered with a shrug.

Ruber took a few steps back, towards the rear entry to the Chantry. "Then, you would not become a Sister to the Faith?"

Maurver almost laughed but the look on his face was too serious. She made a half step forward before stopping. "No, Ruber. I wouldn't," she said.

What she didn't say was that even if she wanted to, she couldn't. They'd never accept a mage as a Sister. Her fists clenched in anger. Screw the Chantry and their stupid rules.

She took a deep breath, not willing to loose her grip on her magic in public.

She watched, silently, while Ruber turned away, muttering something under his breath. She didn't try to stop him, nor did she stop her tears from falling after he was gone. She turned and left, not bothering to hide in the shadows this time.

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><p>Thank you for favoriting and  or reading the story! Please leave a review and let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Three

"Mar?" Bethany called out softly as she entered their small barn. "Sister?"

She heard a soft sobbing sound coming from the loft and shook her head. The tiny pin-prick of her sister's tears poked and prodded her heart. She could feel the sorrow, like drops of cold rain on her skin. It was strong, but not overwhelming. She quietly climbed the ladder, trying not to trip on her long dress in the process. The smell of hay overwhelmed her senses and she breathed deep. She loved the smell of hay. She only wished they could afford horses so she could learn to ride. But they never stay in one place long enough to accumulate even a modest amount of coin.

The hay pricked her hands as she crawled over to where her sister was sitting. Mar had her knees pulled up and pressed tightly against her chest. Her arms were wrapped around her legs and tears were flowing down her cheeks. Bethany sat in front of her and grabbed her hand.

"Mar? What happened?" she asked, brown furrowed tightly in concern.

Hawke sniffed and rubbed her nose on her shirt sleeve. "I'll never find love because of the stupid Chantry," she mumbled.

Bethany sighed. She must have broken up with that stiff noble. Finally. "Mar, it isn't the Chantry's fault we were born mages," she whispered softly.

"Mages deserve love, too!" Mar shouted, causing Bethany to flinch. She sighed and rested her chin on her knees. "I'm sorry, Beth. I just feel lousy."

Her sister rolled her eyes and scooted over so that she was sitting next to her. She leaned her head on Mar's shoulder and snuggled in. "Da found love, Mar. Maybe we will, too," she replied.

Maurevar's stomach grumbled in hunger, she had been so upset she had skipped dinner. Bethany sat up straight at the sound and started searching her pockets. "That reminds me, Sister dear. I brought you supper," she said, producing a sweet roll stuffed with meats and cheese.

Mar's expression brightened and she tried to snatch the food from Bethany. Bethany moved her hand out of the way just in time and scuttled backwards. "Now, now, my sister. Mind you manners," she chastised teasingly.

Mar frowned and pouted. "Give," she replied.

Bethany chuckled and waved the roll in front of sister in a joking manner. "Can you at least say please?" she teased.

Mar watched the roll swaying in front of her eyes like a cat about to pounce. Suddenly, her hand darted out and she snatched the roll, cuaisng Bethany to squeal in surprise. "Please," Maurever said, a mouth full of food.

Bethany placed her hands on her hips. "You are such a brat!"

Maurevar stuck her tongue out at her younger sister. "I'm still your elder," she quipped.

"Barely," Bethany replied with a roll of her eyes. "You're ridiculous is what you are," she finished with a laugh.

Maurevar stuffed the last of the roll in her mouth and chewed noisily. She laid down and put her head in Bethany's lap. Cobwebs covered the wooden beams that held the roof of the barn together. The last edges of sunlight crept through the cracks and made the dust dance and glitter. Mar held her hand outstreched in front of her face and twirled it, playing with the specks of dust particles in the air. Electricity crackled between her fingertips.

Bethany leaned against a post and ran her fingers through her sister's hair. She yawned and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "We should go inside, Mar. I'm sleepy," she said.

"In a minute. I want to play with my magic a bit and you know how Carver feels about that," Mar whispered back.

Bethany nodded and closed her eyes. "Fine. I'll just rest my eyes a moment then."

**.**

**.**

Carver frowned as he glared at the barn door. He had been sent to fetch his sisters. They were probably off playing somewhere. Without him. Again. He stomped over and pushed open the door, looking around in the shadows as he walked. He didn't see them anywhere so he called out to them, with no reply.

He frowned harder and climbed the ladder that led to the small loft. The wood was smooth under his hands as he climbed, angry that he was always being excluded from everything. Because he was different. Because he wasn't a mage.

The hay poked through his trousers and pricked his skin as he crawled across the floor. He could see his sisters both, and Bethany's slumped head told him she was fast asleep.

"What are you doing up here? You're supposed to be in bed!" he hissed.

Mar glanced over at him and then went back to playing with the ball of electricity in her hand It twirled and danced, sending sparks that flashed and crackled with energy. Maurevar's magical energy always made him nervous. Their da said it was just her potential, but it made Carver's head spin. It felt wild and dangerous. Not like Bethany's gentle magic or their da's firm, strong magic. No, Mar's was like a tempest storm, waiting to light everything around it on fire with magic and raw energy.

Carver scowled. "Stop ignoring me!" he demanded.

Maurevar blew out a puff of air from her cheeks. "You wouldn't understand, Carver. Go away," she replied.

His face flushed red in embarrassment. "Stupid magic shit," he muttered.

Mar's eyes flashed in anger and she shot up. "What do you know, huh? You don't understand what it's like to be like this!" Mar said, voice rising as she spoke.

Bethany woke up and rubbed her eyes, startled by the sudden loud noises.

"You don't know how hard it is or what it's like to feel so alone!" Mar shouted.

Carver clenched hay in his fists, matching her anger. "Like this? You think you're special just because you're a mage! Well you're not. Beth and Da are mages too, what do you know about it? You're not alone, you're just selfish!" he shouted back.

Mar's hand reached out and slapped Carver across the face. "I am not!" she yelled.

Carver's eyes were narrowed and his cheek was bright red. Bethany grabbed Mar's arm. "Stop it, both of you! Please!" she begged.

Mar wrenched her arm from Beth's grasp and scuttled towards the ladder, making as much angry stomping sounds as she could on her hands and knees. After she had left Carver stared at the ladder a moment while Bethany cried. "She is selfish," he muttered and sighed.

He glanced at Bethany and handed her his handkerchief. "Stop crying. She'll be fine," he said and began crawling towards the exit.

Bethany wiped her eyes. "It isn't her that worries me so, brother," she whispered.

Carver glanced back over his shoulder. "Eh? Did you say something, Beth?"

She shook her head and shot him a bright smile, full of false sunshine. "Nothing!" she called out.


End file.
